Where Ghosts Hide
by KG-613
Summary: She could handle the dead ghosts, those were easy to mourn. It was the living ghosts that pained her.


Disclaimer: I own a few things, not the characters though, I stole those. I'll give them back one day…maybe.

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><p>Everyone has ghosts. Some ghosts are dead, out of sight, kept in the darkest hours of the night. Others are living, running around acting as if they are wanted, needed. Her ghosts were like that. She could handle the dead ghosts, those were easy to mourn. It was the living ghosts that pained her.<p>

The first day she saw him, on a muggle street, his hair longer and pulled back with a leather strap, she thought she may faint. Instead she gasped, a real-live, gut wrenching gasp. People stopped and stared. He included. Later she would remember it as the most embarrassing moment of her life, gasping, like a bint in a horror film. And then he did something most unexpected, he laughed.

Ghosts didn't walk along muggle roads, and they sure as hell didn't laugh at her.

"Well, well, well, Miss Granger, please, do watch out for flies." His joke was not lost on the lot that watched the bizarre exchange.

Stepping out of her shock she too laughed, "I do apologise, sir. But, you do understand my surprise?"

"Ah yes, it is understood. However, I must be going, thank you for the laugh Miss Granger, it was most appreciated." With that he turned on his heel and joined the minnows funneling down the street.

"But…" That was all she said, 'but,' what a tragic way to seek an audience. He kept walking and she began to follow him, the crowd got larger, more packed, as if at this very moment, on this very street, every shop began to close and every office decided to pack it in for the day. He was lost to her.

After that she saw him everywhere, in a coffee shop once and other times on the street, only to grab the man's arm and reveal another. The most haunting part was that he began to appear in her dreams. Every night she dreamed of billows of long dark hair set against pleasantly pale skin and eyes so dark they were the inspiration for the night.

On the rare occasion when the day had been hard and the hours long, she would take Dreamless Sleep and hide from his ghost. What right did he have? Showing up on that street, laughing at her, LAUGHING! Since when did he laugh and why did it sound so right? The more she thought of it, the more she craved the sound. Like chocolate to the ears, smooth and creamy but a hint of bitterness to round the edges.

Sometime later, six months but who's counting, she decided to stop by a book shop on the way home from yoga. So there she stood, in the new releases, wearing sweaty yoga pants and shirt with a sloppy ponytail perked atop of her crown. She felt him, or more precisely, she felt his magic.

"I couldn't stay away anymore." It was a whisper, a sigh, on the back of her neck. She whimpered, her eyes closed, and it was that moment she realized at some point along the way, she had fallen in love with a ghost, his ghost.

"Why did you come back to life, only to leave…again?" The hurt was palpable, and malice an afterthought.

"That was not my intent. Look at me." Then softly, so soft, he would deny it later, "please."

She slowly turned her eyes downcast, seeking comfort in the wood grain patterns on the floor.

"I can't."

"Courage, Miss Granger, is in your nature. Please do not expel it on my account."

Ever so slowly her eyes travelled up, black slacks, black button down shirt, scars littering his neck, when she met his lips she stopped. Her hand pulled to his chest and ever so slowly, she touched his lips, it was more of a ploy, to find if he was truly there. He was.

"I thought you were dead, I saw you die," her courage faltering and eyes brimming.

His lips curved and her fingers followed the movement, her hand travelled to his cheek and found rest there her eyes finally meeting his with a jolt of reality.

"As was the intention, limelight has never looked kindly on me. I will not go into details but understand that I have spent the last two years recovering and even now I still find ghosts hiding in my dreams."

"Everyone has ghosts." His eyes fell, shame only slightly present. "Humanity has its drawbacks, I suppose."

He laughed a small breath. "And what about you, how do your ghosts hide?"

"My ghosts no longer hide. You decided to come out of hiding. You are my ghost." Her hand fell from its home, down to his chest, still not brave enough to break the physical connection.

"Why, Miss Granger? Why am I your ghost? I know only aching and heartache, I know only how to grieve."

"Asked and answered, Professor. You are my ghost because I know how you love. I know how you ache and more than anything, I want to stop it, because…well because somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. I fell in love with my ghost."

Severus Snape was intelligent but at this particular moment, all knowledge and wit left him. His eyes spoke what he could not. She swam in them, the Black Sea rested on either side of his crooked beak and she took a dive. As the air thickened and his throat began to burn with the tears he dare not shed, he drew her in. She smelled of sweat and something thick, if he had to guess he would say it was frustration leaving her soul. He, on the other hand, smelled vaguely of patchouli.

"I may not be able to give you what you need. I will most likely muck it up. I do promise that I will try. But, when you love the dead for 20 years loving the living is terribly complicated."

As if on cue to cut the tension her stomach rumbled. She tensed, the man she had been infatuated with was holding her in his arms and her post workout need for protein makes an appearance.

"Would you accompany me to dinner, Miss Granger?" He asked with a smirk.

"I would love to but, I just got finished at the gym and," she jerked back from him, "Oh my, I must smell awful! How mortifying!" She laughed at her embarrassment. He moved closer and pressed a timid kiss to her forehead.

"Scourigify." He whispered lightly, she felt the magic do its work. "Now, that settles that."

She smiled and took his hand. "You, ever the romantic, I had no idea."

His eyes turned grave, as if he just remembered something terribly important, "there is much you do not know about me, Miss Granger."

"I'll learn. And, please, call me by my name…" leaning up she whispered into his ear, "know-it-all."

He let out a billowing laugh, one that made her toes curl and his arms wrap around her middle. "Can it be this easy?"

"What?" She asked, drawing back the slightest to see his profile.

He looked into her eyes, "…being in love with you."

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><p>It wasn't easy, not by a long shot. As he made his appearance into wizarding society once more the heat was almost unbearable. The barrage of questions forced upon the pair by the media, friends, family (hers), and even the Hogwarts Board of Governors was harder than sitting for NEWTs and more frustrating than getting others involved in SPEW but she stuck by him, and he by her.<p>

Before long, the seas quelled and another scandal stole the headlines. All was well in their world. They fought and loved like any couple. Accepting each other as flawed was easy. Neither felt the urge to change and neither sought the other to change. It infuriated him when she left the toothpaste uncapped. She couldn't stand the socks left on the floor. When you are lonely your entire life, never feeling true romantic companionship, annoying quirks seem a small price.

Everyone has ghosts. For Hermione and Severus, the best way to calm a ghost, was to love it.

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><p>Author's Note: So this is my first HP fanfic…I hate when people write that on the top of fanfic's so I decided to put it down here…now you can all be super duper impressed by me…or not. Either way, let me know what you think…if you want.<p> 


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